


Burning Bridges

by shyna_dovey_dovey



Series: Bridges AU [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Aged-Up Dib (Invader Zim), But this is Zadr at heart, Character Death, Emotional Trauma, F/M, Flashbacks, Forgiveness, Invader Tak - Freeform, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Touching, Nonbinary Character, Not Really Character Death, OC's - Freeform, OC/OC - Freeform, Redemption, Tallest Purple, Tallest Red, The Almighty Tallest Being Assholes (Invader Zim), Their daughter is the main character, Unwed teenage mothers, ZaDr, ZiDi, Zim is bad dad, but not really, but nothing explicit, tak - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyna_dovey_dovey/pseuds/shyna_dovey_dovey
Summary: Eighty five years after Zim abandoned Dib, it's up to their daughter, Mothra Membrane, to find her biological father, Zim, and fulfill her father's dying wish.But things don't go as planned, and Zim has to make a choice. He can either help Mothra grant Dib his final wish, or, he can turn his back, and walk away from all the bridges he's burned.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Bridges AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700674
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this first chapter is going to be really sad! But I promise, this is about as heavy as it gets. I really don't want to spoil anything so early, but I don't want people to be turned off by "Major Character Death" either. Just know that this is a Zadr story at heart, although it will only be shown sparingly in this fic.
> 
> Burning Bridges is just part one of multi-part series that I'm planning. Please don't let the OC's being protagonists scare you away. I've tried to make them engaging and interesting and balance well with the canon characters.
> 
> The other parts of this series will be much more Zadr heavy, but this specific fic will mostly focus on Mothra and her journey to find Zim. 
> 
> Please also note that there are a few mild, sexual situations, but there is no explicit sex depicted. 
> 
> Lastly, it should be noted that Dib is the one who gave birth to Mothra, and he has a fully functioning vagina. But it will not be explained in great detail, because it is not relevant to the plot. 
> 
> That being said, I really hope you enjoy!

Dib was laying on the bed with his gaze fixed to the ceiling and his old, wrinkly hands folded over one another. He was lost in thought, in a way, dreaming while he was still awake. There wasn't much time, he could feel it. Every time he inhaled, there was a painful, burning sensation in his lungs, as if they were under protest and no longer wanted to expand to provide the necessary oxygen needed to live to the rest of his body.

His daughter had insisted on him allowing the doctors to give him a breathing tube and run more tests to figure out how to prolong his life. As it was, Dib was already one hundred and seven years old, so he'd been cheating death quite a bit. But his time was drawing close.

Death was something he'd feared for a good portion of his life. It was only natural, but ever since his father died, it had weighed heavily on Dib's heart, and it finally sunk in that he wouldn't be around forever. 

He glanced over at his daughter, she was on the other side of the room in the doorway, arguing with one of the doctors. Dib cracked a small smile. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, his hearing had been terrible for years now, but he could tell just by the vague gestures of her arms and the twitch of her antennae that she was tearing that doctor a new asshole. He tried to chuckle, but his lungs decided to attack him instead, and he wound up having a coughing fit.

Dib struggled to regain his breath and suddenly found a woman with green skin looking at him with concern. 

"It's ok, Papa. It's ok." She spoke soothingly and gave him gentle pats on the back and rubbed the area firmly by gently with an open palm. She barked an order to the doctor from before, and in just a few moments, Dib could see a glass of water being presented to him. "Here, Papa. Just concentrate on swallowing the water." 

Dib knew this routine, and he hated it. He felt his head tilt back, she had her hand cupped to the back of his skull, he opened his mouth, and she would tilt the glass of water slowly so that the cool liquid would gently trickle inside and down Dib's throat. He focused on swallowing, just like she'd said, and finally, the coughing stopped and his failing organs had been appeased for now.

There was just a bit of water left in the glass that Dib couldn't finish. He didn't see where she put it, but he assumed it was on the nightstand. She helped Dib lay back down so that his head was resting comfortably on the pillow. Bless her. Even at the end of his life, Dib didn't have a sudden religious experience like he'd always heard about. He didn't see a light or a tunnel or feel the loving hand of a God leading him 'home'. There was just pain and struggle and the shame that you couldn't control your body anymore so your daughter had to take care of pretty much everything for you and treat you like an invalid so you wouldn't accidentally die.

But still, if any of those old tales about people being blessed with good fortune from Gods or higher beings were true because the person in question was considered pure and worthy, then his Mothra definitely deserved to be blessed. She did everything for him, and she never complained once. She was there when her grandfather died, Gaz and Dib were already in their seventies, and for as intelligent as they were, the U.S. legal system in regards to things like estates and trusts dispersing of liquid assets wasn't exactly their area of expertise, and it had been a very long, drawn out, and complicated learning process.

But Mothra was there. She was so very young still and her mind was wide and fresh, able to learn the information and easily retained it unlike her father and aunt. Which came in handy when Gaz then unexpectedly died a few years ago. It was a heart attack; something that no one saw coming, but really, everyone should have seen it coming. She was ninety nine, just a day shy of her one hundredth birthday, and she'd insisted on having Bloaty's pizza for dinner in early celebration. It was the only thing she wanted, so really, who were they to deny her? 

Gaz had never gained a massive amount of weight despite the mountainous piles of junk food that she'd consumed throughout the entirety of her life. She didn't get blood clots, she didn't get bloated, she didn't get diabetes, and she certainly wasn't out of shape. But that one last pizza must have been too much, and Gaz was killed by the very thing she loved most in life.

Dib had outlived her (barely), and no one had seen that coming. The past ten years alone had been an absolute financial wreck. Especially because there was no one now to inherit the Membrane Empire or the Membrane Lab Company. Of course, by birthright, it should have went to Mothra. But she didn't want to take over the company and Dib refused for even a single moment to make her think that she was obligated to take it over or do so for his sake. They'd sought out a dedicated team of lawyers and legal experts and they would take care of everything once Dib passed away. And really, with how much she did for him, he had no right to ask anything more of her. Although, he did have one final request.

"Thank you." Dib raised his shaky hand slightly and placed it over hers. "Of course, Papa." She smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "How are you feeling today?"

"No better." He replied truthfully but still offered her an easy smile. "I see that you were picking a fight with the doctors again. What did they do this time?"

"Oh, that." She frowned a bit. "That asshole tried to tell me that I might 'want to start saying goodbye'. So I told them that the only person dying today was them if they ever said that to me again."

"Sweetie," Dib began, "they weren't exactly wrong-"

"No." Mothra cut him off and held both of his hands in hers, looking at him seriously. "I don't want to hear that talk anymore. I'll figure this out, Papa. I swear. There has to be someway we can-"

"Mothra," Dib said more firmly. This needed to happen now. "love bug...I'm not going to be around much longer. I don't want you to waste anymore of your time trying to save me; I don't need to be saved. I'm human, dear. This is the natural course of life. 

But before I die, I need to ask one final favour of you. Please, it's important that you listen to me. Do you understand?"

Mothra worried her lower lip, a habit she'd picked up from her father when she was nervous or trying to fight back the urge to argue. She saw the finality in his eyes and her antennae drooped, realizing that he was serious.

".....yes, Papa."

"Good." He spoke more gently now. "In my trench coat, in the closet, there's a necklace in my pocket, I need you to bring it to me, please."

Mothra stood and did as she was told, curiously eyeing the necklace she found and brought it over to her father.

"Is this it, Papa?"

"Yes, that's it." He beckoned her to lean down so she was eye level with him. With shaky hands, a little bit of difficulty, he managed to clasp the necklace around her neck, and lightly touched the locket in the center. "This locket is very important, Mothra. It contains something inside that I need you to deliver to someone for me." Dib knew that Mothra was unhappy staying in one place for so long. She'd been born in space, and lived a nomadic lifestyle with Dib for nearly sixteen years before Dib worked up the courage to return to Earth. He had wanted to give her life some more structure, so that she could lay roots and make friends and learn about Earth culture. After all, she was half human. But she felt so tied down. 

She'd never said as much to him, but Dib could tell that his daughter desperately wanted to leave. She'd seen everything this planet had to offer, and she was a bit too like him with her need to explore and discover everything. The only reason she stayed on Earth and didn't complain was because of Dib. He felt incredibly loved, but he also felt incredibly guilty. He didn't want to leave her, but he also knew that his death would be her freedom from this planet. He only hoped she wouldn't resent him for the favour that he was going to ask of her. "Mothra, I need you to find your father. Your…your dad. I know that the universe is great and vast, and I know that I haven't been able to find him in...the point is, I need you to find him, and give him that locket- he'll know what to do with it.

I suped up the old ship and highlighted Irken aligned planets. Asking other Irkens about him will be your best bet to find him. I'm sorry, sweetie. I know that I'm asking a lot of you. But you don't have to do it right away. I just don't want you to forget these words."

"Papa…" she looked down at the locket and touched her fingers to the obsidian surface. "But h-he left us. He abandoned us years ago. He-"

"He doesn't know you exist." Dib corrected. "I can't say for certain whether things would be different if he had known, but he left me on planet HeavenEleven before I even knew I was pregnant with you."

"I know that, Papa, but he still left us behind. How can I- how am I supposed to talk to a man like  _ that  _ and not try to kill him??"

Dib laughed at that but it caused another coughing fit. Mothra was at his side in an instant, ready with the water but he put up his hand and shook his head. He didn't need her help this time. The fit died down on his own but his lungs felt heavier than ever before, and his breathing was shaky.

"I can't say that he...wouldn't deserve it. But I need you to give it to him, please, Mothra." He implored her and reached up to gently touch her cheek.

She clasped her hand over his, pressing the warmth of her cheek into the palm of his hand.

"I...I will, Papa. I promise."

"Good…" Dib's voice was barely a whisper now. "Good...my good little love bug…" Dib felt his eyes slip shut and his hand grew limp as he felt his strength leaving him.

"Papa?" Mothra still held his hand and looked at him with wide eyes. His eyes were closed and his jaw was slack. His head was lolled to the side and his chest wasn't rising anymore. "Papa!"

She called for a doctor- Dib refused to be hooked up to machinery because he didn't want to hear the sounds of his own vitals dropping from an obnoxious computer. The doctor brought two others with them and Mothra gave them space to work. Unfortunately, there was nothing that they could do. 

Dib was dead.

Mothra cried over his body, clutching the fabric of his shirt and sobbing into his chest. She'd sent the doctors away, requesting to be with him just a bit longer before they had to take him. Respecting her wishes, they gave her her privacy, and Mothra was free to wail and mourn her father in peace. He looked so peaceful, like he was only sleeping. 

She gently removed his glasses and kissed each of his eyelids. Invading his bed, she settled down nestled beside him, tucking her legs under her, placing his arm around her and using his chest like a pillow. It was something she used to do as a child, and wasn't ashamed to admit that she'd done it a few times as an adult too. When she was worried and frightened or she couldn't sleep or she just needed comfort, her father was always right there to wrap her up in warm hugs and hold her close until all of her worries melted away. 

As a child, she'd loved how big and strong he was. It felt like he could take on the entire world if he had to, and Mothra always knew that she would be safe with him. It had been harder as an adult, because she'd grown taller than him, and it was much more cumbersome for her to fit in his bed. But he offered no complaints. He made as much room for her as he could and let her snuggle close, still holding her protectively even when his body was much older and weaker.

Even now, she could still feel his warm embrace. She almost believed for a moment that he'd wake up again just to comfort her. That he'd stroke her hair softly and tell her that everything was alright. That she could fall asleep to the quiet thump of his heartbeat and the gentle sound of his humming. That he'd melt her fears away, and tell her she shouldn't be sad, because he'd always be right there for her.

But he wasn't there.

He could never do any of those things again.

So, clutching his glasses to her chest, she stayed that way, curled up in his post mortem embrace.

Just a little bit longer.

She wanted to hold him close…..just a little bit longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mothra's first destination on her way to find Zim

Mothra landed on planet Blorch and looked again at her navigational system. According to the guide, Blorch had been remodeled over fifty years ago into a parking lot planet which was controlled by the Irken Empire and used to hold things like transportation and delivery ships. There was a parking fee of either universal monies, or snacks. Mothra had been sure to bring a large variety of snacks with her before leaving Earth, but man, she also felt like an illegal drug dealer with how many snacks she had. 

Her father's notes said that the art of snacking is one of the etiquettes of Earth, so if she was dealing with a troublesome Irken (outside of Zim), and misdirection wasn't working, then try offering them a snack instead. And considering that Earth specific snacks were found nowhere else in the universe, she had a pretty good chance of getting the Irken on her side.

It's a good thing that the  _ Mystery Maship _ was spacious enough to hold so many different types of carbohydrates. Mothra wasn't terribly fond of the name of the ship, but that's what her father had called it. He'd said it reminded him of an old cartoon show where a bunch of teenagers and a dog drive around solving mysteries in a Folkswagen Microbust. Dib had painted the colours to be a bit more appealing but it definitely was modeled after a brand that hadn't been popular in over seventy five years.

Exiting the ship, Mothra grabbed her knapsack and stuffed several bags of snacks inside before slinging the bag around her shoulders. Her fluffy antennae twitched as she felt a cool breeze pass over the mostly full lot. She hadn't expected a parking lot planet to be a bit on the cold side, but looking around at the concrete structure, it was clear that this space was fairly drafty and damp. Luckily, she was wearing her father's trademark black trench coat, although it was a bit small on her because she was taller than he'd been, she still marveled at how surprisingly warm the thin material was, and how cool it made her look.

Truthfully, it had been a struggle trying to decide what to do with the ratty old thing. At first, she had thought to bury her father with it, as it had been pretty rare to see him alive without it. It was one of his most prized possessions, but at the same time, it was one of hers too. She loved this dirty old rag because it had been his. She remembered how it would billow behind him proudly when he walked and how the dark coattails had made for a perfect hiding spot when she was younger. So in the end, she decided to don the coat and keep it for herself. It was almost like carrying a piece of her father around with her everywhere she went.

As Mothra made her way to the service desk, she couldn't help but notice a variety of aliens that were passing through or boarding the small pod-like trams that would fire them in the direction of their work planet. It seemed like a bit of a queer system to her. She wondered why exactly they couldn't just park on whatever planet they were supposed to be going to; was there really not enough room on an  _ entire  _ planet to park their spaceships for their workers?? Well, then again, Blorch itself was entirely a parking lot planet aside from the aforementioned transportation pods and the service desk, so maybe it was in fact possible.

"Hello." Greeted the Irken drone who manned the service desk professionally but unenthusiastically. "My name is Tydrone. Please present your identification, parking fee, and state your destination."

"Oh! Uh, hi there." Mothra reached into her knapsack and pulled out her wallet and showed him her driver's license and pushed a bag of Cool Blanch Doridos onto the counter. "Uhm, I don't really have a destination exactly. I'm pretty new to this part of the galaxy. I'm sort of just here to figure things out."

The service desk worker rose a brow muscle and looked at her license suspiciously. 

"I have never seen this form of identification before."

"Uhm, I'm sorry, I don't really have anything else

Usually that's acceptable on my planet."

The drone looked down at the bag of chips. 

"I have never seen these type of snacks before either. You really must not be from around here."

"Yeah, I mean, I still live in the Milky Way Galaxy but like, on the way other side, you know? Oh, and those Doridos are pretty good. You should try some."

"I will do no such thing!" The drone suddenly defended himself and dropped the bag of chips as if it had burned him. "These snacks are meant to be presented to the Tallest for consumption, and no worker drone is allowed access to the Tallest's snacks under any pretenses!" 

Mothra's antennae shot straight up from surprise. 

"Woah! Chill, man. I thought you guys would just eat them. Wait- Tallests? Are you an Irken??"

She perked, really looking him up and down. To anyone else, it would have been obvious by the green skin and purple eyes and antennae that he was an Irken. But although her father had described to her what Irkens looked like, she'd never seen another one before. Being half Irken herself, she wasn't really sure what to expect. She had a pronounced nasal structure and full lips. She had five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot. Her hair was short and black and frayed at the sides like little lightning bolts but her antennae were large and fluffy. Her unusual antennae was the reason she got her name as she was named after her father's favourite giant monster, which just so happened to be a giant moth. 

But this guy, this  _ Irken,  _ he was so different from her. His skin was a darker shade of green, he had the most brilliant royal purple eyes that she'd ever seen, and his antennae were so long and straight and he had no hair or nose at all. 

The drone composed himself but he didn't trust the way that Mothra was looking at him.

"Yes, I am Irken. Here." He coughed and pushed back her I.D. "Your payment has been accepted. You are free to use the lot until the completion of the next second-moon cycle, which will conclude in fourty eight hours.

"Oh wow," she put her I.D. away. Maybe this guy could help her. "I've never met a real Irken before! Mind if I ask you a couple of questions??"

The drone's long antennae faltered slightly but still stood straight atop his head.

"Me? I'm not really supposed to-"

"Aw, come on, pretty please?" She asked nicely with a smile.

The service desk worker peered behind Mothra and saw a line of rather irate patrons forming. He was going to get punished if he didn't get this queue down soon.

"I'm sorry, but I have already completed your transaction. Please step aside so that I may assist the other patrons."

Mothra pouted, but she didn't give up. Remembering what her father told her about Irkens and snacks, she opened her knapsack just wide enough for him to see more of the Doridos and other colourful chip bags inside.

"If you help me out, I'll give you another one of these, and it'll be yours to keep. I have plenty more too, but you'll have to scratch my back before I scratch yours. Catch my drift?" She winked, knowing that he couldn't resist the allure of such exclusive snacks.

"I-I uh…" he tugged at his collar, clearly a bit flustered. He looked between the line and this strange patron bribing him one more time before he made his decision. "Ahem. I...m-my shift ends in twenty four hours," he whispered with his hand cupped to his mouth, making sure the nearby guards couldn't hear him.

"Awesome!" She perked and then lowered her voice, realizing this Irken dude was trying to be quiet, so she did the same. "Sorry. Come find me at my ship when you get off. It's the really old, boxy looking one with the horrible Prussian Blue and Periwinkle paint job. Can't miss it." 

She gave him a little wave and darted off, looking for other locals to converse with in the meantime. Her father had told her that this was the only Irken aligned planet in the entire Milky Way Galaxy, so it was highly unlikely she'd run into another one. But that didn't mean that the other aliens here wouldn't have vital information to learn.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty three hours. Twenty three  _ fucking  _ hours. That's how long it took her to walk more or less the entirety of this planet. It really  _ was  _ just a giant fucking parking lot. And aside from the patrons just arriving or just leaving, there was pretty much no one else around, so the whole thing had been a bust.

Sitting on top of the roof of the  _ Mystery Maship _ , Mothra took off her boots and rubbed her poor, aching feet. Well, at the very least, she wasn't as sweaty as she thought she'd be, because this planet had two moons and didn't seem to have a sun or a star to revolve around, so producing natural heat was a bit difficult. She certainly would wash up before bed though. Even if it was just a whore's bath, it would be better than nothing. 

A sudden knock on the side of the ship startled Mothra from her thoughts and she whipped her head around until she saw that Irken guy from before standing to the side of the ship's entrance.

"Up here, dude!" She called to get his attention. He seemed just as startled as she'd been a moment ago but looked up and saw her.

"Oh, you're up there?" He walked over and looked around, trying to locate a ladder of somesort. It was only now that Mothra realized how short he really was. Her father had told her that, aside from the Tallests, Irkens tended to be on the rather short side. But this guy must have only been about three feet tall.

"Here, take my hand." She leaned over the roof and held her arm out to him. 

He reached up, accepting her help and let out a surprise yelp when he was hoisted up so easily.

"Woah!" His legs shook a little as she set him down. "Ha...you're really strong."

"Thanks, I guess? Kinda helps that you're super light." She laughed. "I'm glad you came. I didn't think I'd been sitting up here for an hour already- I only just got back. I walked around the planet and couldn't find anything interesting."

"I could have told you that one." Well, he could, but he had been at work. "Oh, right. I should hold up my end." He walked over to her and stood behind her, and started to scratch down her jacket.

Fast as lightning, Mothra had him pressed to the hood of her ship and pinned his wrists above his head, threatening to crush them with raw strength alone and successfully immobilized him.

"Hey! Hands off, creep. I am  _ not  _ that kind of girl!" 

The service worker looked up at her, scared and confused. His antennae tried to bend to show fear but they just made an odd clattering sound like they were scraping against the metal of the ship. 

"What?? I-I was only doing what you asked me to!" He struggled in her grasp, fearful that he may have made a huge mistake and trusted a bizarre stranger over the promise of exotic snacks. "Y-you said you wanted me to answer questions and scratch your back!"

"Wait." Mothra blinked and suddenly let him go, looking at him with an incredulous expression. "Did you think I meant you should  _ literally _ scratch my back??"

The service drone scurried away from her and nodded, rubbing his sore wrists and his antennae bouncing in unison.

"I didn't-" she face palmed. "It's just an expression, dude. You know, 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours'? It just means that if you do me a favour, I'll do one for you too so it's an even trade."

"O-oh," he sighed a bit, relieved that it had just been a misunderstanding. "I apologize. I wasn't familiar with that colloquial phrase."

"Hey man, don't sweat it." She laughed and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I thought you were trying to get fresh with me and I sort of overreacted." She saw that he was giving her a confused look again and shook her head. "Ah, nevermind. Not gonna explain that one. But here," she reached into her knapsack and tossed him a bag of Doridos. "I still wanna ask a bunch of questions but you totally earned this one. Sorry for trying to break your wrists."

The bag bounced once and then twice before his clumsy hands finally got a proper hold of it.

"Well, if I held a grudge against everyone that tried to break my wrists, then I'd have a lot of enemies." He opened the bag and sniffed its contents. Mothra wondered vaguely how exactly Irkens were able to smell with no visible nostrils or noses, but then she was taken aback by how the mild mannered service desk worker suddenly devoured the bag like a man who'd been starving for weeks. "Wow, that's good!" His deep voice chirped happily and spoke with his mouth full. Yeah, it was kinda gross, but Mothra couldn't help thinking that it was pretty cute to see him so excitable over a bag of chips.

"Slow down. You don't wanna choke." She perked seeing his long, strange segmented tongue swirling inside the bag and licking up every crumb. Her own tongue was a little longer than a normal human's but it was still pink and flat and she certainly couldn't move it around like that. "Soooo...Irken, huh? Are snacks like, the only things that you guys eat?"

The service desk worker finished his investigation of the bag and was sad to find that there was not a hint of flavour left because he'd devoured all of it.

"Snacks are a large staple, yeah." He folded up the empty bag and set it aside. "I've heard that the elites and the Tallests sometimes have big fancy parties where they have food catered from all over the galaxy, but that's just a rumor." He looked over at Mothra. "I've never had chips like that before, especially in such a bold flavour. You're really not from around here."

"What gave it away?" She laughed and handed him another bag of chips. "Yeah. I'm from planet Earth. As far as I can tell, it's the only other form of intelligent life in the Milkyway Galaxy, but we're so far removed from everything that our technology is considered primitive to most other species. Hell, they still haven't figured out that there's different species of aliens in the rest of the universe.

But they're my people, even as dumb as they are. Well, they're half of my people, anyways." She folded her arms on her knees and smiled at him. "Would you believe me if I told you I was half Irken?"

" _ You're  _ half Irken??" The service desk worker went slack jawed with awe, even as he reached for the bag and stared at her. "How is that even possible?? I didn't…I thought smeets were only produced on Irk in the Smeetery. All Irken, one hundred percent. How could you have possibly ended up all the way out here?"

"Bit of a long story, and I'm not sure I understand all of it myself but Papa told me he-" she smiled fondly. "He told me that when he was young, an Irken invader came to Earth to conquer it. He said they became mortal enemies and were constantly fighting for the fate of the planet. Overtime, I guess they just stopped hating each other less and less and the Irken got bored with the idea of global conquest. 

He offered Papa to leave with him so they could travel together. Like I said, humans on Earth don't even realize that there's life out there besides them, so of course he jumped at the chance. But then-" her smile faltered and she spoke a bit more grimly. "....but then suddenly he left. The Irken invader left Papa stranded on a snacking planet and never came back. Papa waited his entire life to see him again, but his wish never came true." She gripped her arms a bit, the memory of her father's recent passing still stung. "And that's why I'm out here. I've never met another Irken before, so I wasn't even sure where to begin.

But before he died, Papa asked me to find that Irken, my dad, and give him this-" she fiddled with the locket around her neck. "I'm not sure why, but it's my Papa's last request, so I have to fulfill it for him. Even if it means traversing the entire universe alone, I won't stop until I find him.

Heh, kind of a handful to go through for one lousy Irken. Oh, n-no offense."

"Uh, none taken?" He slurped his bag again as he'd finished the contents during the telling of her story. Although he'd hung on every word. "I'd never have believed that if someone else told it to me. Your life sounds really interesting. And uhm, sorry for your dad or father or whatever."

He wasn't being disingenuine, but Irkens weren't raised with parental figures, so he never really understood the concept. Still, he knew enough that you were supposed to  _ say _ you were sorry.

"Thanks." She looked at the two clean bags. "Geez. I'm almost afraid to tell you I have more of those." She put her knapsack on the opposite side of her so he couldn't reach them. "But that's enough of those for now. I'll give you some more after you answer some of my questions.

Sooo, question number one. What's your name?"

She vaguely recalled him mentioning it when they first met but she couldn't remember what it was.

"Oh, right." His long antennae perked. "My name is Tydrone. And yes, I know, I get the irony that I'm also a worker drone. But I think I remember your name from your I.D. card. You're…Martha, right?"

"It's  _ Mothra _ ." She corrected him slowly, as though he were a child. Seriously, why did everyone always think her name was Martha?? "But Tydrone, huh? Actually, we have a name kinda similar to that back on Earth. But I kinda like 'Tydrone' a bit better. It sounds kinda cool. So Tydrone," she sat back on her hands and crossed one leg over the other, the vibe between them was much more casual and easy going now. "What's your story?"

"Well, I'm not 'cool' for one thing. And my story certainly isn't as exciting as yours. 

I was raised and trained on Irk with the other smeets in my age group, but I never managed to make anything of myself. I wasn't smart enough to be a scientist and I wasn't strong enough to become a soldier or an invader. I'm short too, so I was the perfect height to be a worker drone. 

But I...I must be a 'defective'. There must be something wrong with me, because I hate it. I hate that I'm stuck here day after day, used as a punching bag and forced to work crazy long shifts with so little amount of pay.

The guards here aren't Irken, but they treat me like a play thing in the same way that the Irkens would. One day, a request came in to the Tallest from the guards on Blorch. None of them wanted to man the service desk because they were bored and knew that Irk had service drones to spare. So the Tallest went through a list and handpicked me because of my freaky antennae."

Tydrone self consciously ran his hand over them, showing how they sprung straight back up when he let them go.

"These things are enormous; that's not normal for Irkens. My antennae should be half this size and bend back a little. I can't even move them separately, and I don't know why. They stick up straight, and one can't move without the other, even though they're not fused together. They started calling it a 'unitennae' and picked on me for it." He frowned, looking at his feet. "They said my unitennae is more like a door handle, and they had a lot of fun doing things like holding my head and moving them up and down so it looked like a big jawed animal trying to get some food and using the ends of my unitennae like hooks and hanging me on a tree branch and leaving me there for days, knowing that I couldn't wiggle them separately to unhook myself and I was too short to reach the tree to climb down."

"That's terrible! I'm so sorry they did that to you."

Tydrone just shrugged.

"It's just the way things are. I shouldn't want anything better, but I do. So I think I might be a 'defective', because my PAK doesn't stop me from thinking negatively about the Empire of my Talllests, or the situation that I'm in." He sighed. "Please don't tell anyone. If they knew how I felt, I'd be sent to Judgementia for life evaluation, and if I was seen unworthy by the Control Brains…" he shuddered, not wanting to think of the consequences. Despite his life of mockery and below minimum wage, overworked misery, he very much didn't wish to stop existing. 

Mothra took a while to respond. She thought a lot about what Tydrone had told her, and what she knew about Irkens from her father. They were an imperial race which was usually ruled by a monarchy. They used an ugly caste system based on height, and they were known throughout the universe as galaxy conquering maniacs. 

But then there were Irkens like Tydrone. The lower class, the freaks, the unwashed masses. The ones who were meant to serve and be happy with their enslavement. It didn't sit well with her at all. But maybe it didn't have to be that way. After all, she was the living proof that Irkens could be so much more than what their oppressive leaders or control brains told them they had to be. 

"I won't tell anyone," she finally answered. "Because you're coming with me." She reached into her knapsack and produced another bag of Doridos. "That is, if you want to."

Tydrone looked at her incredulously. 

"What?? Why would-" he cut himself off and reached for the chips offered to him despite his confusion. "That's…you don't even know who I am." He tried to think logically, fearing this might be a trick of some kind. "How am I supposed to know that I can trust you?"

"You can't." Replied Mothra airly as she laid back, folding her arms behind her head as she gazed up at the stars. "But I'm kind of glad that you don't. Papa always taught me to question everything. He said if something looks too good to be true, then it might be a trap. Don't believe everything you see, and be careful of who you trust." She smiled. "But I'll level with you. You don't have any reason to trust me, but I've also got nothing to gain from tricking you, simple as that.

You don't  _ have  _ to come with me. I'm just giving you the chance to make your own choice. Why don't you think it over for a bit? I've still got like twenty something hours left before my parking pass expires.

I'll just be here, figuring out my next move. So just swing on by before I take off if you wanna come."

Tydrone didn't know what to say. The logical part of his brain said, 'no, this is some crazy patron that you met today and you're stupid for trusting her', but the other, more rebellious part of his brain told him to 'take a chance, because she can't be any worse than the others who've picked on you and looked down on you your entire life' 

Wordlessly, he took the chips and hopped down to the ground, padding back to his station box. He had a lot to think about.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mothra was sound asleep when she heard the sound of rapid wrapping. Groaning in annoyance from being woken up so rudely, she left the mattress on the floor and scratched at her lower back as she made her way to the door.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya, keep your shirt on." She mumbled and used the keypad to unlock the door. Waiting on the other side was a very panicky looking Tydrone carrying an absurd amount of bagged chips in his arms.

"Is that offer to leave still available? Because I don't think I can stay on this planet anymore."

"Uh…" Mothra yelped as she heard a stray shot strike her ship. "Yeah, ok, time to go." She pulled him inside and slammed the door. Wide awake now, she hurried to the pilot's seat, strapped in, and started up the old girl. The ship shook as more shots struck the side, and Mothra set the thrusters to max. "Hang on to something!"

The  _ Mystery Maship  _ hovered in the air, ascending to just the right height before blasting off into the night sky.

Tydrone only had enough time to jump into the co-pilot seat and clung to the arm rests for dear life as the craft picked up speed.

However, much to their dismay, they could still feel shots being fired. Pulling up the outdated but still functional navigation map, Mothra could see four angry red dots that were right on their tail.

"Shit. This thing wasn't really designed out-maneuver or stop bad guys...Tydrone, take the helm, I'm gonna take care of these guys." Mothra unbuckled and hopped up, the ship steering a bit shakily until Tydrone took his place in the driver's seat. She opened up a ceiling compartment to the side of the driver's seat and pulled out a rather old looking laser rifle.

"What are you planning? Can't we just go faster and get away?"

"No can do. The  _ Mystery Maship  _ wasn't built for that. We can talk upgrades later but I need to shake them before we leave the atmosphere. I can't breath in space so this is the only chance we have." Mothra hooked a spare cable onto the belt loop of her jeans and clipped the other end to the metal prong holding the headrest. "There, that should help keep me secure enough. Gimme a good tug if things get dicey, ok?" She gave some of the extra slack to Tydrone, though he looked at her skeptically. 

"You are single handedly the craziest person I've ever met."

"And you're the guy that was crazy enough to come with me." 

She entered the code and opened the door once more. The sudden intake of air from the altitude made the ship feel heavier and the snacks swirled chaotically inside. Turning to grab the roof, she hoisted herself up and kneeled to hold firm. She could see the four officers chasing them, and they were riding in these weird circular contraptions that vaguely resemble motorcycles. Guns drawn, they continued to fire, and Mothra had to duck from a few shots. She could see the night sky growing closer and closer, and the oxygen levels were depleting. Time for all those games of lazer tag to pay off.

Crouching, Mothra raised her weapon and steadied her aim. She purposely didn't hit the officers and aimed for the frame of their vehicles. Even if they were shooting at her, she didn't want to kill them. So a few shots to compromise their vehicles would do the trick. The first two on the left went down fairly easy. But the last two on the right were more tricky. They were smarter; they weaved between her shots and Mothra suddenly cried out in pain as one of the lasers managed to hit her right in the shoulder. It hurt now to raise her arm and aim, and the further lack of oxygen was starting to make her breathing heavy and her vision blurry. 

Though she barely had time to recover when she suddenly felt the  _ Mystery Maship _ being turned around. She nearly got whiplash, and with nothing to hang on to, she slid off of the roof and yelled.

The side of the ship rocked as something heavy struck it, and a few of the chip bags fell to the planet below, as well as the two other officers and their motorcycle things. Mothra feared for a moment that she may join them but then gasped as the cable on her belt loop tugged harshly and ended her free fall. She thrashed while being suspended in the air, that slight sense of panic still present as there was no way for her to right herself. But that feeling subsided as she felt herself being lifted up and back into the safety of the ship.

It had been a struggle, but Tydrone had managed to anchor himself with his PAK legs and use the rest of his strength to save Mothra. He shut the door behind her then retracted his PAK legs and slumped to the floor.

They both lay there, panting and unmoving with the quiet hum of the thrusters disappearing as they left the planet's atmosphere, and with the thrum of the adrenaline still rushing inside of them. Then, there was the sound of a giggle. The giggle turned to a chuckle, and finally became full blown laughter.

"Holy fucking shit dude, I almost died!"

"I know! And I rebelled against the Empire!"

"Dude, we're totally wanted fugitives!" Mothra was laughing so hard that she was snorting; another embarrassing trait that she'd picked up from her father. Sitting up, she looked over at Tydrone, who was still laughing but more softly now. "Haa. Can't believe you really deserted your post. I'm glad, but I didn't think you'd really go through with it."

"Neither did I." Tydrone smiled dreamily, his head and unitennae resting against the floor and his arms and legs splayed on either side. "That's the most incredible thing I've ever done in my life! I still can't believe that we managed to take down their ovalycles."

"An 'ovalycle'? That's what they're called?" Mothra raised the skin between her brow muscles and the cartridge of her nostrils and slightly curled her upper lip. It was an expression she'd learned from humans, of course, but it was the closest she could get to scrunching her nose in disgust, as she herself lacked a proper nose. "That's such a lame name for a cool motorcycle bike thing. By the way, what was with all those extra snacks you brought with you?"

"Oh-" Tydrone sat up now as well. "I uhm...remember when I yelled at you before about how I couldn't eat snacks that belonged to the Tallests? Weeellll...when I decided to leave, I also sort of decided that they could go fuck themselves and stole the snacks that were meant to be sent to them as payment."

"Well look at you suddenly standing up for yourself. I'm proud of you, Tydrone." She went to playfully punch him in the arm but her arm went rigid and her face twisted as she remembered that she'd been hit and was still very sore.

"H-hey you're bleeding!" Tydrone scurried over and kneeled beside her. "Let me take a look at that." 

"I'm fine." She insisted through clenched teeth. "Just a scratch. It really only stings."

"You were shot with an officer's pistol, of course it's going to sting. But it also might be worse than it looks. As someone who's been on the receiving end of their energy weapon fury, just let me see it and assess the damage."

Mothra still didn't like it, thinking that she was really just fine, but she complied and let him carefully slip her jacket off of her shoulder. Though her shirt was a tank top, so the wound was easy to see.

"Alright…" Tydrone produced a bright light and some disinfectant from his PAK and gently pressed around the affected area. "Phew. Ok, good. It's not very deep, and I can see the tissue beginning to repair itself already. You're half Irken so this will heal faster than a normal wound. But I'm going to apply some disinfectant anyways to keep out all the germs in the air."

"Germs? What, do you have cooties or something?" She let out a breathy chuckle but could once again tell by the look on his face that he was totally confused with her word choice. "Man, you  _ really  _ need to get out more. Lucky for you, I like to talk. A lot. So you're gonna pick up lots of modern lingo, whether you want to or not."

"I feel threatened." Tydrone frowned, but with how big his eyes were compared to his small mouth, it looked closer to a pout. "But I'd rather be threatened by you than by those brutes. Where are we going next anyways?" He finished dressing her wound.

Mothra put her arm back through the jacket sleeve and looped up thoughtfully, her brow muscles and fluffy antennae furrowing. 

"I don't really know. I know I said I was going to figure out a game plan, but I don't really have any idea of where to look for my dad next. One thing's for sure though, the  _ Mystery Maship  _ is gonna need a few upgrades in case we run into any more trouble."

"Hmm...I don't remember much of the surrounding area, but let me check out your map. I'm sure we can figure out something."

Mothra let Tydrone have the pilot's seat for now, opting to kick back with her long legs on the dashboard and let him have at that old map.

"This navigation system is so primitive." Tydrone sighed. "It's not even a holographic display, it still relies on small screens that don't even show you the topography." He scrolled around a bit, taking note that the map was incomplete as well and looked like it hadn't been updated in nearly a hundred years. But then he saw something. A trash and disposal planet that would have all the materials they'd need to upgrade this ancient aircraft. "Coordinates set. We're going to Dirt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of obvious wordplay, but I couldn't help myself. The Mystery Maship is a reference to the Mystery Machine, and it was named because the ship is designed like an old styled van but is also futuristic (like the Volkswagen Minibus).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mothra and Tydrone arrive on planet Dirt.

"Hey Mothra," Tydrone spoke up and put the ship on auto-pilot. It should only take them a few days to get to Dirt from here. It would have taken half the time if they had the speed settings of a more modern spacecraft, but they'd have to make do for now. "What's your dad's name? The Irken that you're looking for?"

"Hm?" Mothra lifted her lids. She'd dozed off a little after the adrenaline wore off from their daring escape from Blorch. A yawn left her throat and she stretched her long limbs before wincing, the injury to her shoulder smarting. "Uh, dad? Yeah, Papa said his name was Zim. Hey…" Mothra perked, her sleepiness gone and she turned sideways in the co-pilot seat to face Tydrone. "You wouldn't happen to know him, would you??" Tydrone offered no response save for a low frown etched on his face. Mothra quickly backpedaled, fearing she'd offended her new compatriot. "Uhm! N-not that I think Irkens know every single Irken! Just, I dunno, I thought maybe you'd heard of him?" Her cheeks began to heat and flush forest green. She  _ really  _ didn't want to come off as an ignorant human in space.

Tydrone didn't respond. Still as a statue, the only sign of life was the soft, ebbing red glow from his PAK. Mothra felt her skin crawl, the silence making her more uncomfortable than her own faux pas. 

"Dude? You're creeping me out a little…"

And then Tydrone blinked, and he began to speak as though their conversation never stopped.

"Yeah, I found him. Well, I found his data. Every Irken can access the Approved History of Irkens, courtesy of the Control Brains, and find the data for every single Irken alive. It won't tell us where they are, but it will record their birth and death and any significant accomplishments or disappointments."

"Oh?" Mothra's fluffy antennae wiggled excitedly. She figured then that Tydrone hadn't heard what she'd said before because he'd been concentrating on his magical PAK thing. Poor dude just has a bad case of the 'resting bitch face'. "So what'd you find out? Is he…still alive?" Shit, that would really throw a wrench in things if he was dead. Why hadn't she thought before that it was possible he wouldn't still be around? Probably because Dib had always spoken about Zim like he was still alive, and he'd told her that Irkens are almost immortal in terms of life span. So she just sort of figured that there'd be no reason why he  _ would  _ be dead.

"He's AWOL. So that will make it a bit harder to find him. But no, he's still alive." Tydrone took in some more information that Mothra couldn't see. He couldn't simply connect to her PAK and transfer the information that way, because she didn't have one. And the computer system in the  _ Mystery Maship _ was too old to connect with his PAK and display the images on the screen. Right, just another thing to add to the ever growing list of, 'Things Wrong With This Shitty Ship'. "Oh...that's...wow."

"What?" Mothra gripped the armrest in anticipation and leaned over the side. "What is it? What'd you find??"

"Are you sure you really want to know? It's not exactly very flattering."

"What, is it like he was really mean or something? He already came to my planet and tried to destroy it then knocked up my Papa and left him stranded in space. There's nothing you can tell me that will surprise me."

"He's failed every single mission he's ever been given, he decided to 'quit' being banished twice, he single handedly ruined Operation Impending Doom I because he killed more than half of the soldiers on Irk, and he is indirectly responsible for the death of two consecutive Tallests."

Mothra sat back in her seat, but still craned her neck forward in interest.

"Is it…..is it bad that I think that's kind of impressive?" 

Tydrone opened his mouth to respond and then stopped, shaking his head. 

"Not the word I'd use for it, but somehow, I'm not surprised you think so."

"Hey!" Mothra defended herself. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He's insane." Tydrone replied dryly. "And you're crazy."

"I'm not crazy!" She crossed her arms, a strange sense of deja vu tingling in the back of her skull from the phrase. She spoke again and her gaze softened a bit. "Is crazy bad?"

"Define 'bad'."

"Uhm, not good?"

"Well, you risked your life to save me, so I guess you're alright."

" _ Wow _ , I save you from that concrete nightmare, and the best I am is just 'alright'. Fucking  _ rude _ ."

"You're the one who asked." It was hard to tell, but Tyrdrone seemed to be raising his brow muscle in amusement. 

"Suck my ass." 

"You couldn't pay me enough to do that."

"Then do it for free."

"That-" Tydrone laughed. "That's not how any of this works!" Though he wasn't really complaining.

"It is now. My ship. My rules." She folded her arms again, this time in triumph.

"Your ship is a total shit show."

"Oi, my Papa worked hard to buy this ship." She frowned at him. "You try being a single parent and lost in deep space and see what kind of spaceship you can afford."

"Thank the Tallests I'm not any one of those things. But why didn't he just get another one later?"

"I thought you said the Tallests could go fuck themselves? And I'm from Earth, remember? Papa couldn't just go to the store and buy a fancy new ship. We're basically the hillbillies of space."

"Right, right. Force of habit." He paused and looked at her questioningly. "What's a hillbilly?"

\------------------------------------------

Dirt had not been what Mothra had expected it to be. For one thing, it was mostly covered in filth, as opposed to dirt. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, were mountains and mountains of rusty blacks and browns of mounds of trash. It looked more like a landfill than a planet. When asked why it was called 'Dirt' instead of something like, Landfillia, Tydrone had replied that the planet had in  _ fact  _ been originally called Landfillia after the Irken take over. But then the Tallests were informed that Landfillia was the name of a beloved Vortian queen, so, in a panic to not become a beacon for Vortian pride, and to save some face, they'd simply renamed the planet to Dirt. Tydrone had laughed, because that information wasn't actually available in the Approved History of Irkens. But Tydrone had been on Irk when he heard about the mistake and made sure to never forget.

Although 'Toxic' would have been a better name considering how Mothra had become violently ill within a short amount of time on the planet's surface. The air was so polluted and filled with neurotoxins that Tydrone had had to carry her back to the ship. He sat by her side and patted her face with a damp cloth and held her hair when she had to repeatedly empty the contents of her stomach into a bucket. But then he'd started playing with her hair and she snapped at him in her delirious state, telling him it wasn't cool to hit on someone while they were getting sick.

He'd apologized, telling her that he'd gotten distracted as he'd never touched human hair before and it felt nice. Tydrone had even been nice enough to go back outside and dispose of the bucket of bile, so all was forgiven.

A few hours later, feeling dehydrated but no longer like her stomach was burning from the inside out, Mothra had finally risen and felt well enough to brave the elements once more. Leaving her beloved trench coat on the ship to avoid having it become more destroyed than it already was, Mothra held Tydrone's gloved hand for support as they walked, and his PAK leg wrapped around her shoulders, pressing a make-shift breathing apparatus to her nose and mouth. It was a half mask meant to block water for deep sea diving, as Irkens could hold their breath for hours, but Tydrone had connected a tube to his PAK so that he could artificially pump oxygen in for her to breath. 

Finally coming across some form of civilization, they entered a building that was occupied by some rather moppy looking Irkens in what appeared to be a tavern of sorts. Seeing as there was no one to greet them, Mothra and Tydrone sat themselves at an empty booth and removed the breathing mask.

"Don't worry. My PAK is reading that the air in here is filtered, so you'll be able to breath normally."

Mothra inhaled a deep sigh of fresh air. 

"That's so much better. Thanks for your help with all of this. Guess I was really in over my head. Looks like you already returned the favour by saving my life. Haha, I didn't expect us to be even already."

"Even?" He questioned then remembered what Mothra had said before about exchanging favours. "Well, that may be so, but don't think that means you'll be getting rid of me so easily. I've finally got the freedom to make my own decisions, and I think I'd like to stick around for awhile."

"Really?" Mothra chuckled. "Even after I upchucked half my guts?" 

"I'm assuming you're referring to your getting sick. I've been a service drone and cleaning up other people's messes nearly my entire life; a little bit of vomit isn't going to scare me off."

"You're a braver man than I. Ah, you  _ are _ a guy, right? I see other Irkens here, but I'm sorry, I don't see much difference between them." She felt a bit sheepish to admit it.

"Irkens are all cloned from similar genetic material chosen by the Control Brains, so there's a lot of resemblance between us. You're a male as well, right?"

Mothra's antennae twitched in annoyance. She'd often been picked on by the boys back in Hi-Skool over her lack of a chest. She was ok with it now, and really, it was kind of nice to never have to worry about wearing a bra, but it was still a bit of a touchy subject.

"Do I look like a male to you?"

"Maybe? That's why I asked. You said you're only have Irken- I don't know what the other half is supposed to look like."

"Oh." Right. Only human in space. Almost forgot about that. "Well, I'm not. I'm definitely a girl." She wondered then if maybe female Irkens also lacked breasts. "So, how is a female Irken supposed to look?"

"Not much different than male Irkens. But they have curled antennae and really long lashes usually." 

Mothra wiggled her own, fluffy antennae. 

"Huh. Looking around again, I think I can actually see a couple of female Irkens here. Once you point it out, it's pretty easy to see the difference."

"Exactly." Tydrone smiled at her. "That's how Irkens tell each other apart. Our names, and small differences in our appearance."

Then an averaged sized irken female walked up to their table and interrupted their conversation.

"You're not a stationed worker on Dirt. This tavern is for Dirt 'employees' only." She spoke in Irken, instead of common, so Mothra had only partially understood what she said. It had been a long time since her father had taught her the Irken language, and longer still since she'd needed to use it. But she'd caught the words, 'Dirt' and 'leave', so she had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

"Sorry, we didn't know that. Can you tell us where we can go to get food and supplies?" Asked Tydrone in fluent Irken.

"Nowhere. Dirt allows scavengers free reign of what's on the planet except for the amenities. Those are strictly for the 'employees' who were banished or forced to work here as punishment, and we're not fond of sharing what little we have in resources. Leave now, before we make you leave."

"Tydrone what was the rest of that?? My Irken is a bit rusty."

"She," he switched back to Common, "she said basically outsiders aren't welcome and we need to leave."

"What? Not cool. I didn't almost die for this," Mothra turned slightly to face the Irken. "Look, Miss Irken lady? I don't know if you can understand me, but I risked a lot to come here. Can you at least tell me if you've seen a certain Irken around somewhere? His name is Zim, and it's really important that we find him. I think he's like, your height, maybe? Red eyes, yells a lot, has an ego the size of Jupiter…" Well, that's what her father had told her about Zim anyways.

"Zim?" The female Irken's antennae folded back against her head and her eyes widened. "Zim? Zim, Zim, like  _ the  _ Zim?"

"Yeah, Zim! We know him. Oh, do you know where he is?? Please tell us, we really have to-"

The female Irken had stopped listening to Mothra's rambling and snapped her fingers. Only now after they started talking about Zim did it become clear that all the other Irkens in the tavern were staring them down.

Two bigger, slightly taller Irkens walked over to their booth and suddenly lifted Tydrone and Mothra up from their seats and carried them under their arms.

"Woah! Hey, what gives- put me down!" Mothra tried beating her captor's chest and struggling, but when that didn't work, she bit him instead.

The big Irken yowled in pain and dropped her to the floor, now holding his aching side.

"Mothra!" Tydrone wiggled for his life and was about to produce his PAK legs when he felt a sudden sharp pain electrify through his body. The Irken that was carrying him had produced a baton-like weapon and stunned him with it; electrifying his PAK in the process.

Mothra heard Tydrone scream and froze when she felt rough hands with sharp claws lifting the back of her shirt, pressing them against her back and touching the flesh there almost inquisitively. 

"Hands off, creep!"

She rolled from underneath him and pulled down her shirt, looking up just in time to see the blunt side of the baton from before hitting her square in the dome.

There was a sickening 'crack!' sound on impact and the last thing Mothra remembered before falling unconscious was the sheer amount of pain blossoming in her skull.

\-----------------------------------------------

The first thing Mothra felt when next she opened her eyes was a horrible ringing sensation reverberating inside of her head. Then came the pain; each nerve ending and receptor lighting up, each passing a vital little message to the other to pump harder until the pulsations finally became unbearable. Coupled with the sudden wooshy feeling from dehydration from before and the growling of an empty stomach with no contents left to spare; Mothra was looking to be in for a rough time.

Eyes lazily blinking open and hazy from the dark room she was in, Mothra tried to reach up and soothingly rub at her aching skull, only to realize that her hands were tied above her head, and must have been for sometime, because the sensation of pin and needles suddenly overcame her limbs and they struggled weakly in their bonds due to lack of blood supply and energy. Hearing the rattling of a chain that didn't belong to her, Mothra began to gather her bearings and turned further to see Tydrone across from her, also chained up with his hands above his head and an odd electrical charge occasionally sparking out of his PAK.

"Tydrone?" She was met with no response. "Tydrone!" She tried again, her voice cracking from strain. But this time, Tydrone stirred, and she was relieved to see the glow of his purple eyes flickering in the darkness of the room. "Tydrone," she said pitifully, "the fuck are we now? Ow…" 

"I'm not sure." Tydrone attempted to summon the flashlight from his PAK so they could get a better loom around but he winced in pain and another spark crackled from his PAK. "F-fuck…" he said through grit teeth. "They did something...to my PAK. Fried it, I think. Shit, everything hurts."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It should wear off in a few hours." A third, unknown voice spoke to them before suddenly the room was flooded in bright lights and they had to duck their heads to shield their eyes.

There, sitting in the center of the room, was another female Irken. This one was different than the one from the tavern. This one looked far more cool and composed. She wore an outfit similar to that of an Irken Invader, though the tail end of her tunic flowed behind her like a cape and a bizarre tube of some sort protruding from the side of her head and connecting to her occipital bun. One dainty, buckled boot was crossed over her leg and she held a cup of tea in her gloved hands, sipping casually as though she didn't have two strangers chained up like prisoners dangling not ten feet away from her.

"Who are you? What do you want- ngh!" Mothra winced from the pounding in her head.

"Oh no, my dear. I think the better question is who are  _ you _ ?" The Irken set down her cup of tea and stood, hands clasped behind her back as she sauntered forward, sizing them up like a predator surveying their prey. "And as for what I want, it's very simple. I want revenge. And since apparently you know Zim, that means you can tell me where he is so I can gut him like a pig and enact my master plan. So dear," the Irken wordlessly rose onto her own PAK legs so that she was eye level with Mothra and grabbed her face with one hand, squishing her cheeks between her gloved claws as she forced her to look into her eyes, the fiery rage within them betraying her sickly sweet tone. "Tell me where Zim is, and I'll let you and your little friend leave here alive."

"Wha-?" Mothra's fluffy antennae were frazzled and tried to twist her head away, the awkward hold forcing her lips to purse as she spoke. "But I  _ don't  _ know where Zim is! I'm trying to find him too."

"What?" The Irken was taken aback and released Mothra's face. She looked away for a moment, an unreadable expression crossing her face before her eyes narrowed. "I will express civil courtesies only once. You had better not be lying to me." 

"Courtes- you call knocking us out and tying us up to be courteous you psycho bitch!" She winced once more the scrunching of her face in reaction undermining the bite to her words. Ssriously, fuck this headache. "....I don't know where you got that idea from, I don't even speak Irken fluently anymore. The lady at the tavern, she was going to throw us out. We only arrived a short while ago, and we didn't even get to rest or eat or upgrade our ship or anything. I asked her about Zim because I thought maybe she knew him. 

Look, I'm sorry for whatever Zim did to you. From what I hear, he wasn't exactly a great guy. But maybe if you let us go, we could help each other?" Hopefully this psycho would see to reason. "I guess you want revenge or whatever, but I need to speak to him first. I'm on a mission. I have to give him something from my Papa; it was his last request that I find him. But once that's over with, I promise you can do whatever you want to him."

The Irken stared at her for some time. Unblinking and unmoving. But it wasn't like when Tydrone would look through his PAK for information, no, Mothra could clearly see her breathing. In fact, she could practically see the gears turning her head as the Irken seemed to be lost, deep in thought.

"Who  _ ARE  _ you??" She'd settled on repeating her question from earlier. "How exactly do you know Zim? And why do you seem so...familiar…" she reached forward again and this time studied her face, rubbing her cheeks and forcing the lids of her eyes to open wider so she could examine them.

"Hey man, quit it!"

Mothra tried in vain to pull away. The Irken merely tilted her head curiously and then reached up into Mothra's hair. She grabbed a handful, much to Mothra's protest, and straightened the strands in her hands and bent them until they seemed to resemble the shape of a scythe. Then suddenly, she scurried away, eyes wide, as though she'd been threatened. 

"It can't be. That- that's impossible! Yet you look like him. I wonder…tell me, prisoner. Are you from Earth?" 

"Wait, you  _ know  _ about Earth?" Mothra didn't think it was possible for any other aliens to know about that planet, let alone another Irken. 

"Oh, I  _ remember  _ Earth." She scowled. "That is where Zim foiled my plans for the last and final time. Him and that hideous human with the glasses and the big head." 

Mothra paled a little. Oh shit, she was talking about her parents. Great. They just so happened to land on the one planet where some crazy lunatic had a grudge against her Papa and her dad.

"I see...uhm, but I don't know where Zim is. O-or about that other person. So, uh, please just like, let us go?"

"I can see it." The Irken grinned widely at her, her face splitting in half and revealing off putting zipper teeth. "You  _ do  _ know something. Maybe you don't know where Zim is, but you definitely know  _ something _ . The big headed boy, you must have met him too on Earth, amiright?"

"Papa's head was  _ not  _ big!" Mothra cursed herself for being too much of an idiot to stop herself from defending her father. 

"Papa?" The Irken questioned. But she was on the brighter side of Irkens apparently, because it only took her a few moments to put two and two together. And when she did, she burst out laughing.

She laughed so loud that the sound vibrated off the walls of whatever room they were being kept in. She clutched at her sides and her stomach, practically screaming with joy, kicking in the air and using her PAK legs to keep her suspended, as though she'd just been told the funniest joke in the universe.

Tydrone's antennae attempted to lay flat on his head and Mothra's fluffy ones curled in discomfort before flattening into her hair.

"Ow! Could you not?? That cackling is seriously annoying."

The Irken finally managed to compose herself and wiped a tear from her eye. 

"Oh! Oho, that was  _ so  _ rich. Ha...I don't think I've laughed that hard in centuries. Thank you for that." She returned to Mothra once more. "So these are your antennae then?" The Irken reached up and curled one around her finger. 

Mothra shivered, feeling her face get hot.

"C-cut that out!" 

The Irken merely continued, experimentally stroking the fluff and enjoying the feathery texture of it. 

"I had been wondering what they were," continued her captor, smirking when she felt Mothra's legs squirming beneath her. "Yes, definitely Irken. Or at least, half Irken. Though I wonder perhaps if your antennae are more sensitive than a normal Irken's." She blew cool air on them and loved the strangled moan in response from Mothra.

"Hey, that's enough!" Tydrone finally spoke up. He'd been silent because, well, he just didn't really have much to add to the conversation. He saw Mothra trying to negotiate for their release, so he figured everything would be ok. But he wasn't going to stand for his friend being harassed like that.

"And who is this? Is he your mate?" Gods, did she hope so. She could take partial revenge on Dib and Zim for defeating her by humiliating their daughter in kind, and she could do it in front of the hybrid's mate. She almost felt like she could cry from happiness. "Well, no accounting for tastes in partners, but I suppose that comes from the blood of those two morons running in your veins. Although…" the Irken walked behind her, lifting her shirt without permission. "I see! My lackeys really were right- you have no PAK here." She dragged her claws across the beautiful, unmarred skin.

"Seriously, stop it!" Pleaded Mothra.

"Can't you see you're making her uncomfortable? You went too far already! Keep us captive, but don't touch Mothra." Tydrone struggled in his bonds again. His PAK was still all but useless and he was no closer to being free than he was fifteen minutes ago.

" _ Mothra _ ." The Irken rolled the name on her tongue. "It has a rather pretty ring to it. But then again, you are a rather pretty abomination, now aren't you?" She leaned forward and inhaled the scent of Mothra's neck, to which Mothra shuddered in disgust. "Aw, what's the matter,little hybrid?" The Irken cooed mockingly and ran her unwelcomed hands around the bare flesh of Mothra's exposed skin before slipping one of them down to cup between Mothra's legs. "Mm. Tell me, Mothra," the Irken licked her lips. "How does it feel to become aroused by your enemy?" 

"Heya, boss! The guys said they found that spaceship and- woah!" A tall Irken that they'd never seen before entered the room and looked embarrassed by what they'd seen. "Whoops! Sorry, didn't know you were still interrogating."

"Hmpf." The female Irken sniffed indignantly from being so rudely interrupted but released her inappropriate hold on Mothra, walking over to the tall Irken. "Xenofer, you  _ know  _ how I hate to be interrupted." She glowered at her. "Although...I suppose it's just as well. This setting is entirely inappropriate for my revenge. Oh! I know, I'll set up a nice bed and record it. Then I can send the recording to Zim. Oh, oh! And then I can  _ film  _ Zim's reaction to that recording and cherish those memories forever!" The female Irken squealed with joy before cackling evilly. "Haha, I can hardly wait." She turned to look at Mothra. "Looks like I'll have to tab our little conjugal meeting for now. Ah, and where are my manners? I've taken you hostage and not even told you my name. Well, listen closely, little hybrid. My name is Tak, and you'd better remember it, because that's the name you'll be screaming when next we meet. Though whether that's in pain or pleasure is entirely up to you. Now, Xenofer!" Tak barked at the tall Irken. "Guard the prisoners while I'm gone. And  _ don't  _ let them escape this time."

The Irken, Xenofer, saluted their master with a serious expression, but as soon as Tak was out of the room, they broke into big smiles and started chatting it up with their captives.

"Hey there! I'm really sorry Tak is keeping you prisoner. She does that sometimes. But ohmigosh, I'm so happy to have new people around! Are you guys going to be in town for a while? Yeah, Dirt isn't exactly the hippest place to be, but hey, it's home! So my name is Xenofer! What's yours? Huh? Hello? You doing ok there?" 

"Mothra, are you ok?" 

Mothra didn't respond. Her hearing was fading and her vision was getting fuzzy. There was a flurry of different emotions swirling inside of her, but with the immediate danger gone, her body refused to pump anymore adrenaline to keep her topside. She simply didn't have the energy anymore.

The last thing she heard was the muffled voices of Tydrone begging Xenofer to go fetch some water before she passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so Tak is back, huh? 
> 
> Wild.
> 
> For those of you wondering why she may seem a bit more underhanded than usual, it's important to remember that it's been more than eighty years since her last encounter with Zim. She's grown a bit more deranged and feral in that time. She wants Zim to suffer as much as possible and she wants to be the one to inflict that suffering, and defiling Zim's daughter and making him watch seems like a pretty good way to stick it in Zim's craw.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if it's obvious to anyone how many edits I am making to this fic. AO3 works way differently on my phone as opposed to my computer, but I do most of my writing on my phone. I've also no beta, so I sometimes don't catch grammar or spelling mistakes until after the work is already posted. But I promise, these are only minor tweaks either to the text or formatting, and in no way compromise the original story or add additional material that wasn't present in the original post.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This is a flashback chapter.

_ Mothra stuck out her tongue to catch the snowflakes as they fell from the sky. Bundled up in warm layers, she walked ahead of her father, spinning childishly and kicking at the snow. _

_ "Mothra, honey," Dib walked quicker to catch up with her and ushered her to the side with his body protectively. "Not so close to the street. Stay on the inside of the sidewalk- remember, on Earth, most of the vehicles are on the ground. I don't want you wandering into the road and getting hurt." _

_ "Okie dokie!" Mothra swung and arms and marched forward, giggling when the snow would crunch beneath her boots with every hard step.  _

_ Dib smiled, looking down at his daughter. He was glad that she'd been enjoying her first visit to Earth so far. He hadn't expected it to be snowing, as he'd given up keeping track of the Gregorian Calendar many years ago, but, despite the cold, he was glad for the winter weather. Mothra had never been to a planet with snow before, so it was nice to see that her reaction was so positive. After all, he'd want her to enjoy herself if they planned to live here. _

_ Right…live here. Dib felt his heart lurching in his chest with every step that he took. It had been nearly twenty years since he'd left Earth with Zim. And he hadn't exactly departed on very pleasant circumstances. It had been an argument, because of  _ course  _ it had been an argument, with his father that had set everything off. Dib had been seventeen, and he couldn't take the lies anymore. His father would deny Dib's paranormal theories and step on his dreams at every single turn, yet he expected sympathy and understanding from his son when  _ he  _ was the one with the skeletons in his closet on display?  _

_ Dib didn't think so.  _

_ He'd been so upset, he couldn't take it anymore. Truthfully, that night, he'd only gone to Zim's house to vent. He felt like he was losing his mind, and he had no one else to turn to. Somehow, over the years, his once greatest enemy and rival was now his closest friend and the one that he looked to for comfort and companionship. So when Zim suggested that they get away from Earth and travel the stars together, how could Dib have possibly refused? _

_ Even despite everything that had happened between now and then, he didn't regret his decision. Well, not entirely. He wished that he could have left under better circumstances. He wished that his father could have just believed in his son and trusted him for once. He wished that he wasn't lied to for years and made to feel inferior by the people who were supposed to love him the most. And, of course, he wished that Zim hadn't left his stupid ass alone and pregnant on a fucking snacking planet.  _

_ But despite all that, he wouldn't change a thing. Because if he did, then he wouldn't have the hyperactive little green ball of joy beside him that had thrown herself face first into a snowbank and attempted to make a snow angel. _

_ "Mothra," Dib kneeled down, helping her up and brushing all of the extra snow off of her. "...love bug, you'll catch a cold."  _

_ "Brrr!" She shivered but giggled. Mothra was sixteen years old, but in human years, she was only about as developed as an eight year old. "But Papa, the cold tingles!"  _

_ "I know it does, baby," he pulled up her hood and slipped back on her mittens since she kept taking them off. "but do you really want to be sick the first time you meet Grandpa?" _

_ "Noooo…" she pouted and took her father's hand as he stood again and held it out to her. "But Papa," began Mothra as they continued walking, "how much further is it? We've been walking forever." _

_ "Not much longer, sweetie. We're almost there." And they were actually very close now to his old home, and it filled him with anxiety all over again. He'd purposefully parked the  _ Mystery Maship  _ in an empty lot a few blocks away from the house so that he would have enough time to think about what he was going to say before the dreaded moment arrived when he'd have to face his past, and his fears. _

_ He honestly wasn't sure that he ever wanted to return to Earth. Dealing with his dad always seemed like an emotional chore that he never felt ready to deal with. But he had a reason to confront him now, and that reason was Mothra.  _

_ Zim was gone, Dib was alone, and he'd spent the past sixteen years traveling without him and raising their daughter. He'd traveled galaxies, visited hundreds of planets, and discovered thousands of different alien species that no other human would ever be lucky enough to meet. But he wasn't as young as he used to be. He was thirty five now, and while he was by no means over the hill, he still didn't have that drive for adventure like he used to. Not to mention, that he was a parent now. Mothra had never known what it was like to have a home. To have a space that was yours that you returned to every day after a long day of activities.  _

_ She had no friends, no structure, no education, and Dib wouldn't allow it to continue any longer. It didn't matter that her intelligence, courtesy of both Zim and Dib's brilliant genes, was leagues above what it would normally be for a girl her age. And it didn't matter that Dib had taught her the important things like reading and writing in multiple languages and about the safety procedures for conducting science experiments or how to hot wire a spaceship. The point was, Mothra needed a place to lay down her roots, at least until she was old enough to make her own decisions as an adult. _

_ Dib wanted her to make friends and form relationships and attachments to solid objects and wake up happy in a warm home where she wouldn't have to worry about how far away they were from the next fueling station or where their next meal would come from. He wanted her to be a normal kid. Well, Dib's own childhood hadn't exactly been the greatest, but his Mothra was too good to suffer in the same way that he did.  _

_ She was smart and bubbly and talented and he had no doubt that she'd be popular with the kids in Skool. She didn't need a disguise because, really, most humans were idiots, but she was also adorable and sweet and kind and no one was going to question why her skin was green or why she didn't have pupils. Plus, she had hair like a human, and Dib clipped some cute little red ribbons on her fluffy antennae that could easily pass for hair clips. Really, Mothra wasn't the one he was worried about not fitting in here. _

_ Dib wasn't really sure what he was going to do with himself once he set Mothra on a routine and got her enrolled in Skool. He'd have to get a job, of course, to financially support them. But what would he even do? He was doubtful his deep space experiences were applicable on Earth, and he didn't exactly have contacts in this galaxy that he could put on his resumè. Maybe he could ask his dad to do him a solid and make up some paperwork for Dib so he had an easier time finding a job. That is, assuming he'd even be speaking to his father after today. _

_ Dib felt his blood run cold as he approached the front step of his former home, and the chill in his bones wasn't from the cold outside.  _

_ The door looked the same. The house, for the most part, looked the same. And he even saw his dad was still driving the same windowless black van because it was parked in the driveway. Well, at least he knew he was home. _

_ Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dib finally worked up enough courage and rang the doorbell. He nearly up and ran when he heard shuffling from the other side and a muffled voice that was only seconds away from opening the door. But the tiny hand in his own gave Dib a gentle squeeze, and that was the grounding that he needed to stay in place and not run like a coward. _

_ "Listen, pal," a woman with short, purple hair and a dry, monotone voice answered the door. "We're not buying what you're selling so-" the woman stopped short when she saw Dib and her eyes opened widely in surprise. Dib would recognize those chestnut eyes anywhere. _

_ "Ohmigod, Gaz?" He was shocked, not expecting her to still be living at home. She looked so much older now. Well, they both did. But she was only sixteen when he'd left Earth. A short, teenage girl that had yet to grow into her body. But look at her now. She was a tall and proud, full grown woman. She'd been gifted with their dad's tall gene's, just like Dib, so she was roughly the same height as he was, just like she'd always been.  _

_ "Dib?" She responded questioningly. Then her eyes closed again, and she returned to her usual, apathetic demeanor. "Huh. Guess you didn't die in space after all." _

_ Ouch. Ok, so not exactly a touching family reunion, but Dib couldn't really blame her. He'd thrown his life away on Earth when he left, and that included his responsibilities as a big brother.  _

_ "Nope. Uh, came close a few times though." He chuckled awkwardly, trying to release some tension from the situation. "You look...Gaz, you look beautiful."  _

_ "And why should I care what you think?" She crossed her arms. "You're lucky I didn't slam the door the minute I saw your ugly mug." _

_ "Yeah, that's fair." Dib rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Listen, Gaz. I'm...I'm really sorry. About everything. I know I wasn't the best brother to you and I-" _

_ "Save it." She cut him off. "Save your stupid sorry speech, cuz I don't need to hear it. You're just gonna cry and run off again the next time something goes wrong, so there's no point in even trying." _

_ Now that had stung a bit.  _

_ "Gaz," he tried again. "It wasn't simple as it sounds. Ok, yeah, I overreacted a lot of the time back then, but sometimes my reaction was actually justified. The point is, I'm not the same person anymore. I didn't even plan to leave the first time! It just sort of happened-"  _

_ "No, it  _ was  _ super fucking simple. You didn't talk to dad and did everything on your own but you always came crying to me for help when your dumbass couldn't figure it out. You blamed dad for everything wrong in your life, and it wasn't even his fault." _

_ "Actually," Dib was getting upset. "It  _ was  _ his fault! Or, at least, some of the time. God, you  _ always  _ defend him, you've never taken my side! Not even once!" _

_ "Are you  _ fucking  _ kidding me?! I did nothing  _ but  _ take your side! Who was it that you always tried to force to go squatch hunting with you? Who is it that you forced to give up the TV so you could rewatch the same episodes of Mysterious Mysteries a bazillion times? Who was it that bailed you out of trouble when things went too far with Zim? It was me. _

_ I babied you like a fucking kid the entire time, because you always had this idea that the entire world was against you." _

_ "Because that's what it felt like!" Dib defended himself. "It felt like everyone was out to get me and put me down, and you picked on me all the time too!" _

_ "Because I thought you could handle it!" Gaz shouted at him. "But you couldn't even handle a little bit of tough love because you were a fucking loser and didn't want to admit it!" _

_ "I know that!!" Dib screeched, tears welling his eyes. "I know that…" repeated, softer this time. "I was...I was a loser. I was a weird kid lost in my own head, and I thought that if people didn't agree with me, it was because they were too stupid to see the truth.  _

_ I wanted to be better than that. I felt like I had something special to offer that no one else could see, but I was wrong…" Dib lowered his head shamefully. "I was nobody. I wanted to be just like dad, I wanted to do things that no one else thought was possible and expose all the hidden wonders of the world. But in the end, I was only chasing cryptids that no one cared about just to make myself feel better." He looked at her again, his eyes soft but swirling with emotion and unshed tears. "Gaz...I really am sorry. I didn't...I should have been there for you.  _

_ You didn't need me, you never have. You've always been perfectly capable and well adjusted. But even if you didn't need it, you still should have had a better brother than me.  _

_ And I know that there's nothing I can say or do that can make up for it. All I can do is admit that I'm wrong and try to move on from it. _

_ I just...I wanted to come home and apologize. For everything…" _

_ Gaz glared him down then sighed deeply, leaning against the door frame with her arms still crossed. _

_ "....whatever." It was likely that she wasn't swayed by Dib's heartfelt words. But at least she wasn't as hostile as she'd been just a few moments ago. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to." She spoke sternly. "Do you have  _ any  _ idea what happened to dad after you left? It fucking destroyed him. _

_ I tried to convince him not to keep looking for you. I told him you were a stubborn dick and you'd wander back home eventually, but he couldn't accept it.  _

_ He blamed himself and went crazy trying to find you. He even contacted the space program and made them shoot audio recordings into space in hopes that aliens were 'real' and they knew where you were. He doesn't even believe in that shit, Dib. But he was willing to try anything to make you come home. Tried to tell him you were a lost cause, but you know dad. Never tell him something is impossible."  _

_ "Wow, he did all that for me?" Dib's heart swelled with hope. It had been rare for his father to express his love for his children, or, at least, express it in a way that Dib found meaningful, but hearing that he did all that for him gave him great comfort to know that his father had really loved him all along. Though it also filled him with an incredible sense of guilt to think that he worried like that. "Where is he? I...I really want to see him." _

_ "He's in the lab in the basement. Where else?" Gaz replied, sounding bored. "By the way, what the fuck is that?" She pointed to Mothra, who'd been cowering behind her father when Dib and the scary lady started yelling.  _

_ "Don't talk like that in front of my kid." Dib admonished her, the irony being lost on him that she'd heard their entire conversation and much worse swearing than that. "But this is Mothra. Hey Mothra?" He saw she was clutching his arm and hiding behind him. "Come out front, love bug. Don't you want to meet your auntie?" _

_ "No! She's scary and yelled at Papa!" She said stubbornly but poked her head out enough to glare at Gaz. _

_ Dib sighed. This isn't how he wanted to introduce Mothra to their family at all. _

_ "She's not...yeah, no, she's definitely scary. But we were just talking, honey. It was just dumb grown up stuff, there's nothing to worry about, right, Gaz?" _

_ He knew that Gaz was essentially evil incarnate and an unstoppable force when angered, but even he wouldn't put up with her acting that way towards his little Mothra. That was  _ his  _ baby, and he didn't want her to live in fear of her own family members. _

_ Gaz just stared blankly at them, as though she was still processing what was going on.  _

_ "She...she has green skin." _

_ "Is that a problem?"  _

_ "She has no ears and no nose." _

_ "She has a nose. It's just very small and delicate." _

_ "She's an alien."  _

_ "I don't see why that should matter." _

_ "You had a baby with Zim, didn't you?" _

_ Now Dib was blushing, understanding that she'd pieced it together.  _

_ "Haha, what gave it away?" _

_ "Everything." Gaz said plainly. "I always knew you two morons were destined for each other, but I never thought you'd be dumb enough to have a kid." Gaz looked over their shoulders. "Hey, where is Zim? I thought he'd be with you." _

_ "He…" Dib looked a bit melancholy. "He's not exactly in the picture. It's just me and Mothra." _

_ "Oh." There was no snarky quip this time. Gaz offered Dib a solemn look; it was the closest thing he was going to get from her as an apology. "Anyways, get in. Too cold to be standing outside like this." She stepped aside and let them through.  _

_ Dib led Mothra inside and was glad to finally be rid of his heavy coat and his boots. He'd been wearing his trench coat underneath his winter jacket, even though the outfit choice clashed terribly, and rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and his jacket to his elbows. There, much better. _

_ "Papa?" Mothra questioned, clutching her coat to her chest. "Do we really have to stay here? I don't like it."  _

_ Dib smiled at her and kneeled again so that he was eye level with her.  _

_ "I'm sorry that you had to see us like that, love bug." He set her coat to the side and held her small hands in his. "But I promise, there's going to be no more yelling or screaming now. Papa...papa did a few bad things in his youth, but you shouldn't have to hear about things like that right now." _

_ "No way!" Mothra shook her head, seeming shocked. "There's no way Papa could be a bad guy! Papa is nice to everyone and really cool and awesome. That lady was just super wrong." Mothra puffed her cheeks. _

_ Dib couldn't help but laugh.  _

_ "I'm glad you think so, sweetie. But everyone has flaws and does bad things from time to time. And Papa is no exception." He ruffled her hair. "But that's a story for a different time." He gave her a kiss on the forehead and stood up again. "Let's go, Mothra. But I have to warn you, your Grandpa has a lot of weird and strange things in his lab. It's important that you  _ don't  _ leave my side, ok? I mean it."  _

_ "Kaaay."  _

_ Dib approached the familiar looking door with the warning signs plastered all over it and raised a hand to knock before pausing. Right, dad had a sign in the middle of the door, specifying if he wanted you to knock or enter on your own. It saved a lot of hassle in not startling him in the middle of an experiment or causing an accident. The sign said that visitors were welcome today, so he turned the knob and opened the door, ascending the stairs slowly to make sure that Mothra trailed behind him and didn't trip. _

_ He didn't have to go far into the lab before he spotted his dad. That same large, looming figure clad in white was bent over a table, swirling a tube of some foreign liquid in his right hand and writing, no doubt, a report on said liquid with his left hand. _

_ "Did you need something, honey? I'm almost done with this new experiment! I think I may have finally figured out the perfect formula for a super mega industrial cleaning solution that  _ won't  _ melt through the floor this time." _

_ Professor Membrane's voice was deep and enthusiastic, and even if his hair had gray streaks in it, he looked exactly as Dib remembered him.  _

_ "I…" Dib felt his voice stick in his throat and he couldn't find the words. He'd dreamed about this day for so long. He'd gone over hundreds of different scenarios in his head, and written entire monologues on chewing his dad out and berating him and blaming him but every negative emotion he held fled when he saw his father. "Actually, it's me…" _

_ Professor Membrane immediately dropped everything he'd been holding. Not caring that his tube had broken and the liquid inside began to eat away at the counter top, Professor Membrane spun on his heels and had his suspicions confirmed. _

_ Dib saw his father staring at him, his expression hidden behind his goggles and his high collar. So he offered a sheepish smile, and spoke again. _

_ "Hi, dad." _

_ Before Dib could hardly blink, he suddenly found two, strong arms wrapped around him, crushing him into a hug with his face pressed to Professor Membrane's lab coat. _

_ "Dib!" Cried his dad as he held his son close. "Dib, my son, my boy child-" he pulled back and held his cheeks. "Let me look at you." Professor Membrane took off his goggles, his eyes scanning Dib's face, and, for the first time, Dib could see just how much his father had truly aged. _

_ There was an indent around his eyes from the goggles and his gaze was soft, with a glassy shine of unshed tears and crows feet tickling the corners of his eyes.  _

_ "Dad I…" _

_ "You've grown so much." Professor Membrane smiled sadly at his son. "Dib," he began, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For giving you such a hard time, for not taking you seriously. I didn't mean to push you away so much. I didn't mean to lie to you for so long. I didn't give you my trust even when you were crying out for help-" _

_ "Dad, it's ok." Dib actually did let a few tears slip this time. "I'm sorry too. I overreacted a lot of the time and did stupid things to get your attention. I'm sorry I made you think I didn't know that you loved me. I just -hic- it was so hard sometimes," he was getting choked up. "I'm sorry!" -hic- I should have told you I was leaving. I should have tried to talk to you more-" _

_ "Oh, son." Professor Membrane hugged him again and let Dib cry into his lab coat like when he was a little boy. "Shhh, it's ok, son. I'm at fault too. I should have listened to you more. Even though I cloned you, I shouldn't have tried so hard to force you to be like me. Because you're  _ not  _ me. You're you. My crazy, wonderful, incredible son." Professor Membrane comforted his son, holding him close and letting him work through his emotions. Then he happened to peer down over his shoulder and saw two, large, golden eyes staring at him. "Oh! And who's this you have with you? A brilliant young scientist?" _

_ Dib clutched onto Professor Membrane tightly, working through years of emotional trauma in a few good sobs. He finally pulled away and sniffled, wiping his eyes with the backs of his sleeves. He needed a minute to compose himself. _

_ Mothra stared up at Professor Membrane. This guy was huge! Maybe the tallest ever.  _

_ "U-uhm my name...is...Mothra…" he wasn't scary like the lady that yelled at her Papa (Mothra refused to call her her auntie), but he was big and really intimidating.  _

_ "Well, Mothra," Professor Membrane crouched down to her level and extended his hand to her delicate, much smaller green one. "My name is Professor Membrane, and it's very nice to meet you." _

_ Mothra hesitantly reached forward was surprised to find his massive hand clasp around hers and shake it very gently. _

_ Dib by now had fixed his face, cleaned his glasses, and was no longer in an emotionally vulnerable state. _

_ "Ok, I'm fine now. So dad, this is your granddaughter." _

_ "Granddaughter?!" Professor Membrane stood tall again and beamed with pride with his hands on his hips. "Well now. I didn't think it was scientifically possible, but even I can be wrong. Professor Membrane now has an adorable granddaughter!" Dib chuckled. His dad was still so extra. "And where is your mother, sweetie?" _

_ "Right here." Dib slightly raised his hand, causing Professor Membrane to have a small heart attack.  _

_ "Son?! But there's no way! It shouldn't be-" _

_ "But it is."  _

_ "So then…you mean that your-?" _

_ "Yep." _

_ "And it does-?" _

_ "Uh-huh." _

_ "Oh…" Professor Membrane rubbed the back of his head. "Son I'm...I'm sorry. I just thought there was an error with the genetic code cloning with the female DNA. I never thought that-" _

_ "It's ok, dad. You couldn't have known." Even though his dad  _ was  _ the first one he'd blamed when he discovered he was pregnant, he'd eventually come to terms with the fact that no one could have known that his female sex organs were functional. Yes, they were fully developed, but Dib was a clone. It shouldn't have been possible for him to conceive, let alone pass on DNA. By all accounts, Dib should have been born sterile, just like Gaz had been. But some way, somehow, the science had been wrong, and Dib was a living anomaly. _

_ "Right. Well, I suppose it worked out for the better. Now I have my son returned to me, and an adorable granddaughter that I can spoil- huh? Where'd she go?" _

_ Dib turned to look behind and saw she was missing. He whipped his head around and saw that she'd waltzed over to the counter that Professor Membrane had been working at, watching the mysterious liquid corrode the table and looking over his notes. _

_ "Mothra!" Said Dib in a shrill tone. "What did I say about touching things in the lab? You get back her right now, young lady!"  _

_ "But Papa," Mothra protested. "Grandpa used the wrong formula." _

_ "The wrong formula?" Professor Membrane walked over to her, bending over curiously to look at his own notes in her small hands. "What do you mean, sweetie?" _

_ "Well, it looks like you wanted to make something super clean and stuff, right? The formula is wrong because you used piranha etch. See? The sulfuric acid is responding poorly with this chemical here. You need to use aqua regia instead." _

_ "Hm, I see!" Professor Membrane spoke proudly. "It looks like we have a little scientist here after all!" He ruffled her hair.  _

_ "Dad, be careful with her antennae." _

_ "I'm sorry, her what?" _

_ "Uh…" oh boy. That was another awkward conversation waiting to happen. "Never mind, I'll tell you later." _

_ "Oh, alright then. Say, what are your plans for dinner?"  _

_ Dib held up his hands defensively. _

_ "Sorry, dad. I uh...I don't think that's a good idea. Gaz uhm...she didn't really take my coming home very well."  _

_ "Ah, I wouldn't worry about that," Said Professor Membrane with a smile, “don't let her fool you, your sister also missed you terribly." _

_ "Well, it didn't seem that way…" _

_ "I can't believe you two are still bickering like cats and dogs even after all these years. Trust me, Dib. She's happy you're home. In fact, you should stay awhile." _

_ "I wouldn't want to impose-" _

_ "Nonsense, my boy!" Professor Membrane waved at him dismissively. "I finally have my family," he gave Mothra another pat on the head, "my  _ entire  _ family together again under the same roof, and I don't plan to let them go any time soon." He smiled at Dib.  _

_ "Can we stay, Papa? Pretty please?"  _

_ Mothra gave her father big, puppy eyes and curled her antennae cutely, making an adorable, irresistible pleading face that she knew he couldn't deny. Even if she had mixed feelings about her aunt, she really liked this tall man that was now her grandfather and she thought it would be a lot of fun to get to play in the lab with him. _

_ Dib worried his lower lip, unable to deny his daughter when she made such a cute and pleading face like that. He’d really only wanted to stay long enough to say his peace, maybe catch up if things went well, and meet Mothra, because she deserved to meet the rest of her family at least once. And Dib had planned to make do with them continuing to live on the  _ Mystery Maship  _ just until he could get some sort of housing situation settled.  _

_ It was almost unfair, how they ganged up on him like this. After all, things were good now, but he knew that, inevitably, more of the demons and the hurt feelings from his past would rear their ugly heads and they’d be back at each other’s throats once more. He really didn’t want Mothra to be around when that happened, and he felt a bit uncomfortable imagining living under the same roof with this man and having to go through that again.  _

_ But...maybe it would be for the best after all. They had a long way to go to repair their relationship, that much was true, yet Dib just couldn’t find it in himself to be as angry as he’d thought he would be. He knew now that his father truly loved him, and while that didn’t make up for everything he’d done over the years, he couldn't help the sappy, happy feeling that bubbled up inside of him.  _

_ "I can't believe I'm saying it, but ok. I guess it couldn't hurt to stick around for a while. It'll be warmer staying here anyways." _

_ "That's the spirit! This calls for a celebration. Who wants Bloaty's Pizza for dinner?"  _

_ "Oh, oh, I want pizza!!" Mothra jumped up excitedly. _

_ Professor Membrane chuckled at her enthusiasm and scooped her up, putting her on his shoulders.  _

_ Dib smiled, finding the whole scene touching as he remembered when his father used to do the same for him and Gaz when they were really little; parading them around on his big, strong shoulders, letting them hold onto his head or even pull his hair if it made them feel safer. _

_ Yeah, things were going to turn out alright. Really, things hadn’t gotten terrible at all in the way that he’d thought they would. Not every wound was closed, and he certainly had a lot to work on in regards to his relationship with Gaz, but overall, he was glad that he finally reconciled with his family. Even if the road ahead was a bit bumpy, and there would no doubt be heated arguments between them, Dib knew that everything would be ok, because he wasn't going to run away anymore.  _

_ Maybe he couldn't fix what happened between him and Zim, but he could fix this. He would have time now. He would have closure. He would have his family. _

_ Dib sighed in content, hopeful for the future ahead of him. _

_ It was good to be home. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, I think this chapter is really sweet. I had a number of ideas to showcase these flashbacks of Dib's life with Mothra when she was alive, but I'm not really sure how I feel about adding more flashback chapters. 
> 
> I guess they technically don't add anything to the story except some good feels and a nice bit of flavour text, but I definitely enjoyed writing it, so maybe we'll get another one of these in future; who knows.
> 
> But don't worry, the next chapter is going to continue where we left off last time. So please stay tuned!


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